


three of cups

by impossiblyincredible



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Core Mechanics (Blaseball Team), Established Relationship, F/M, Slice of Life, simply they are having fun and thus are incredibly fun to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 08:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30052449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblyincredible/pseuds/impossiblyincredible
Summary: “Damn right,” Jasper says. “Jo, we’re gonna be fine. We just need to get out there and play, and you’ve just gotta pitch once every few games.”“And be a functional captain and come back and work on my project and go get drinks with the others and somehow find time to sleep in all that,” Jolene continues. “It’s gonna be a lot to handle, you know.”“Well, we've done it before.”
Relationships: Jasper Ji-Eun/Jolene Willowtree
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	three of cups

**Author's Note:**

> the premise of this is that the mechanics were a team that used to play blaseball in a different league, and are now joining the ilb after a very long break from blaseball. crucially, their version of blaseball is not exactly the same, and they don't know about incinerations or any of the truly weird shit that happens! my main character concepts are:
> 
> \- jasper uses he/they (mostly he in this fic tho) and he's got prosthetic hands that he's always upgrading!  
> \- jolene uses she/her, and she's a botanist/biologist trying to get animal tissue to photosynthesize
> 
> a couple others show up in this but those two are the main ones i wanna be clear about! the title's a tarot card, which signifies friendship, collaboration, and leaning on the people around you, which i thought was v appropriate. hope you enjoy!

“Babe.”

“Hm?”

“I miss the collider. I miss the collider _so much_.”

Jolene turns, pushing her goggles onto her head, and laughs. “This is the third time in like, three hours that you’ve said that.”

“Well, at least I’m consistent,” Jasper replies, sprawled over the couch and grinning up at her. “Once per hour means roughly—” 

“Oh my god—”

“—like, four hundred and three thousand times until I die? Roughly, I mean.”

Jolene pauses, tilts her head as she works out the math. “That’s assuming you live until you’re seventy-five, right? Awfully generous life expectancy, considering the way you think about workshop safety.”

Jasper just stares, shaking his head. “I’m telling you, you should’ve been a physicist. You’re too good at math for you to be sitting around trying to play God.”

“Oh, stop it. Physics is boring.” Jolene turns back to her desk and leans over to squint at one of the plants. It’s been a while since they’ve gone through this particular argument, but it’s definitely lost its teeth by now—Jolene prefers tangible biology she can sink her fingers into, Jasper prefers numbers and particles he doesn’t need to see to believe, and they’re both mechanics and both of their work has value, et cetera, et cetera, but still—fun as hell to argue about sometimes. “Besides, you know how I feel about infinity.”

“That it’s beautiful in its refusal to be conceptualized?”

“That it can kiss my ass,” Jolene replies, snorting. “I will stick to my plants, thank you very much. At least photosynthesizing makes sense.”

“Not the way you’re trying to do it, babe,” Jasper says, pushing himself up to peer over the edge of her desk. “How’s it going? Is the tissue responding?”

(Organic tissue doesn’t photosynthesize mostly because the sheer amount of surface area needed to produce a viable amount of energy for an organism that moves around is so sorely impractical it’s almost laughable. But Jolene hadn’t stopped at that. Why would she? No, she’d just rolled up her sleeves and collected some samples and got to work, talking about mood boosters and practicality and how damn cool it would look to be green, so Jasper didn’t question it. Much.)

“Nope. I think I’m just gonna leave it and see if some sunlight doesn’t help. Remind me to check in… oh, let’s give it four hours?”

“Sure. Got any _plans_ in the meantime?” Jasper punctuates the question with a waggle of his eyebrows, to which Jolene responds with a glare, to which Jasper responds with even more waggling—what’s that they say about nonverbal love languages?

“Oh, but actually,” Jolene says, pulling her feet up into the chair. “I was thinking that you could push that damn couch back to the wall and then we could go bother Lady. Remember last week when she said she’d draw up the plans for some—”

“—for some sickass armor!” Jasper finishes, grinning. “Do you think she got the material for it yet?”

“Well. We’ll see if it survived the move,” Jolene replies, but she’s smiling too. “And Bottles was talking about new greenhouse glass this morning, which—they’re right, this close to the surface, we’re gonna need to adjust a little. Maybe use some real sunlight, if we can get it. It’s _so_ weird being this close to the top.”

“Technically, we’re still closer to the Core, right?”

Jolene wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, but—I don’t know. I liked my lab.”

“Yeah, me too.” Jasper says, frowning for a moment before brightening. “Hey, but you know what, we’re mechanics, right? I’ll just build you a new one right here, for during the season.”

“You’re a theoretical physicist,” Jolene says, laughing. “Do you know the first thing about building a lab?”

“Pfft, I can probably figure it out. It’ll give me something to do without the—”

“—without the collider?” Jolene asks, eyes exaggeratedly wide.

“Oh, goddamn it. Am I getting predictable?”

“I don’t think you ever _weren’t_ , honestly. You and your precious collider. I mean really, if you’re having an affair with a non-sentient mile-wide circle—”

“Jo!”

“—then at least be subtle about it, you know?”

Jasper shakes his head. “Maybe I _should_ have an affair with the collider. Non-sentient just means it can’t make fun of me like you do. That’s a plus in my book.”

“Well, if you get an affair with the collider, I want one with specimen fourteen,” Jolene says, grabbing the succulent on the table and cradling it to her chest.

“Affairs aren’t collectibles—”

“They are if you’re doing it right.”

Jasper would swear up and down that he didn’t mean to, but he can’t help the startled laugh he lets out. Jolene just grins triumphantly, and yeah, fine, he can admit he’s got nothing to say to that, so he just shakes his head again. “I hate you.”

Probably somewhat undercut by how much he’s smiling at her, but if she notices, she doesn’t call him out on it. For _once_.

  
  


* * *

“Knock, knock,” Jasper says, poking his head into Lady’s workshop. “Is the good mechanic in?”

He’s pretty sure Lady moved in _this morning_ , and the place is, somehow, already cluttered as hell—it’s nice, though, Jasper thinks. Always something going on, always something to do in here.

“Depends on what stat we’re measuring,” comes the absent reply. Jasper walks in, extending a hand to help Jolene over sheets of scrap metal. “I’m not a very good pitcher, you know.”

“Well, that’s why you’re on our lineup, not our rotation. Square peg, round hole, right?” Jolene calls.

Lady looks up from her desk, smiling faintly. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. What’s up, guys?”

Jolene glances at the other side of the lab. “Is Bottles around? Wanted to talk greenhouse glass.”

“They’re just inside, there,” Lady replies, shaking her head ruefully. “Won’t let me in. They’re very adamant—something about a present for me, but I can’t think of a _occasion—_ ”

“They don’t need an occasion!” Jasper interjects, and Lady sighs, inclining her head in acknowledgement. 

“Well, I’m not gonna snitch, Lady,” Jolene adds, waving as she pushes open the door to Bottles’ studio. 

Lady makes a face at her, turning back to Jasper. “What about you? How are you doing?”

“Ah, settling in fine. Just wondering if you’d gotten a chance to come up with some armor plans?” Jasper holds his hands up, the gears whirring softly as he extends his fingers. He’s deeply proud of his hands, but he hadn’t anticipated a return to blaseball when he’d designed some of the more delicate functions, and he _really_ isn’t looking forward to a fastball coming in and putting him out of commission until he can fix them.

“Mm, I still need your particular measurements, but here—” Lady pulls open the seventh drawer to her left and pulls out a holographic display. At the press of a button, a 3d model of a hand springs to life, rotating slowly above her desk. “You wanted it to be seamless, right? For the weather and all that.”

Jasper nods, squinting at a note on the display. “Yup. As close as you can get, anyway. Why does that say holographic?”

Lady grins, the metal in her eyes glinting and shifting as she puts her hair up, talking around the pen between her teeth. “Thought you’d want a paint job.”

“With _holographic_ paint?” Jasper grins back, nudging her. “You know me, like, a little too well.”

Lady just smiles at him, looking back up at the display. “So fun fact, this _is_ seamless, but also still flexible enough to be comfortable. I’m very proud of this. Ask me how I’m going to pull it off.”

“ _How_ are you gonna pull this off?”

“This particular alloy is sensitive to heat, so it gets more flexible the warmer it gets, but extremely incrementally. And since your hands aren’t organic tissue like the rest of you, the friction from the heat should be enough, so resistance-wise, it should feel like… rubber gloves, probably. Metal rubber gloves.”

Jasper just stares at her. “Holy shit?”

Lady tosses him a (deserved) self-satisfied little grin. “And that’s just the first iteration, so we could adjust as needed too. Hey, you’ve got the specs for these somewhere, right?” She gestures at Jasper’s hands.

“Yeah, probably,” Jasper says, nodding. “I can dig them up and send ‘em over whenever. Lady, I owe you _big_ time.”

She just shakes her head and sighs. “No, you don’t.”

And it’s so simple that Jasper can’t even argue it. He knows that he’ll be able to do her a favor tomorrow, or next week, or whenever, and honestly, keeping track of who owes who on the team gets very tedious very fast, so he just shrugs and grins and zooms out on the hologram, spinning it around as fast as it can go. 

“So how’s the move been?” Jasper really hasn’t seen much of Lady for the past couple days—lots of half-finished projects to transfer, he supposes. “Adjusting fine?”

Lady exhales, leaning back in her chair and steepling her fingers. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether I can paint something today. I’m all—” she waves her hands around vaguely. “You know?”

Jasper nods, sort-of understanding. “Discombobulated?”

A smile tugs at Lady’s lips, and her eyes’ concentric rings spin—a telltale sign that she’s making note of something. Jasper feels the satisfaction of the reaction he’d been hoping for. “What a nice word.”

“Thought you’d like it.” He puts the hologram display down, picking up a wrench to fiddle with instead. “Rest up, yeah? Long season in front of us, so take care of yourself.”

“No more working through the night for me,” Lady says mournfully. 

“No!” Jasper says, with a startled laugh. “None of that!”

Lady just glares and swats him on the shoulder. 

* * *

“Oh,” Jolene says, winding her arm through Jasper’s on their way back to her lab. “You know who else you should talk to, before the season messes everything up?”

“Who?”

“Torus. He got some new electroluminescent wire in a while ago and he’s thinking about integrating it into clothes,” she says, looking him up and down. “Could use a model.”

Jasper doesn’t even try to hide his grin at that. “That all? Well, being a trophy husband has _some_ perks, I see—”

“Well,” Jolene says, “he might also appreciate help with the wiring. But don’t tell him I said that.”

  
  


* * *

Torus’ workshop is dim when Jasper walks in, the simulated sunlight barely making its way through the makeshift curtains. The man himself is barely visible, but for the frizzy red hair peeking over the top of the sewing machine.

“Did you hear there’s an end-of-the-year _gala_ next week?” Jasper asks, by way of greeting. “Do you think we’ll be invited?” 

Torus looks up, grimacing. “Makes sense,” he says, like someone who’d rather watch their project get flushed than attend. “Unfortunately. Why do you ask?”

(Out of all of them, Jasper’s pretty sure, this whole transition had been easiest on Torus—back in the Core, he’d stayed firmly in his workshop for most of the day, and here, he seems content to do the same, working on his mysterious techno-fashion projects for days on end.)

“Been a while since we’ve done one of those, huh?” 

“Never long enough, I say,” Torus grumbles. “Always knew we’d see one again. Party and season both.”

Jasper’s eyebrows shoot up. “What do you mean?” 

It’s been years, decades even, since they last played—Jasper’s not sure exactly how long, but definitely long enough that they’d all started to let go of the tension that comes with the start of the season. They haven’t forgotten the rules, though. There are some things that never let go of you, no matter how hard you throw yourself into whatever new project you start to try and forget about it.

“Nothing like that,” Torus says. “We’re simply not that lucky. Never have been.”

Well. Jasper can’t argue that. “Hopefully it’s a decent first season,” he says, but even to him, the words sound flimsy. 

Torus lets out a laugh. “Ha! Unlikely. But surely _you_ didn’t come around to complain about a party?”

“Guilty,” Jasper says, glad for the change of subject. “Jolene mentioned you were going to do something with EL wire?”

“Ah,” Torus says, smiling. “I knew that’d get around to you soon enough.”

Jasper grins and holds up his hands. “Yeah, I don’t know what else you expected. Any progress?”  
Torus chuckles. “I’ve hardly started anything yet, but you’re welcome to stay for some time. For the gala, I’m sure?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean—”

“Ha! You’ll get your gala dress, my boy,” Torus says, shaking his head. “And it’ll be my finest yet. As long as you fix this bloody aircon for me. How’s that figure?”

Jasper blinks in surprise, but he recovers quickly enough. “Sure, yeah, Torus, that sounds great. Is it running too hot or too cold?”

Torus waves a hand toward the back of the workshop. “Both. Neither. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Won’t respond to anything, Manual be damned.”

“Well, let’s see what I can do.” Jasper stifles a smile and heads to the back of the shop, swapping out new hand extensions as he goes—a screwdriver, soldering iron, and mini-pliers all emerge from the tips of his fingers, and he runs them all at once, just for a second, to make sure they’re working. 

This iteration of his hands are the best one’s Jasper’s made so far—the fingers are spindly and bronze and surprisingly strong, and the nanobots that power them are so receptive to signals coming through the muscle in his arm that they almost move before he thinks to move them. Work well done, he thinks, and he feels a surge of satisfaction every time he thinks about it.

As he unscrews the plate covering the air-conditioning, Torus starts to hum, some work song from decades ago, and Jasper joins in, playing tenor to Torus’ low bass—it’s not like there’s any rhythm to the work either of them are doing, really, but it’s nice anyway. 

* * *

“If you can’t hold still—”

“I _am_ holding still! Not my fault your hands are so cold!”

“My hands are perfectly bloody normal-temperatured.”

“That’s not a word.”

“It’s a word if I say it’s— _stop_ moving! Hardly want one of these pins to just—”

“ _Ow!”_

* * *

Later that evening, Jasper runs a hand over Jolene’s freshly-buzzed hair. “We don’t need to go yet, right?”

“Dinner’s important,” Jolene insists, making no move to get up from where she’s laying across his chest.

Jasper hums in agreement, letting his eyes slide shut. He probably won’t fall asleep, but it’s so warm in Jolene’s workshop, and she’s laying there next to him, and there’s no urgency, not for another few days, at least, so—well. Maybe he will fall asleep.

“Hey—” Jolene starts, stopping herself. Jasper blinks, opens his eyes to see the telltale worry line between Jolene’s eyebrows.

“Hm?”

“Never mind.” A pause. “We’ll be fine.”

“Damn right,” Jasper says. “Jo, we’re gonna be fine. We just need to get out there and play, and you’ve just gotta pitch once every few games.”

“And be a functional captain and come back and work on my project and go get drinks with the others and _somehow_ find time to sleep in all that,” Jolene continues. “It’s gonna be a lot to handle, you know.”

“Well, we've done it before.”

“Mm.”

“And hey,’’ Jasper says. “What’s the worst that can happen? Not like we’ll die.”

Jolene snorts. “Maybe of sheer exhaustion—”

“No, not you,” Jasper retorts. “You’ve got the world’s most delightful boyfriend to forcibly drag you into bed when you’re working too hard, babe, don’t forget.”

Jolene lifts her head and stares at him flatly. “How could I?” But she can’t keep the smile off her face as she settles back into his side, slinging an arm around his stomach. 

“I’m gonna start on that lab, too. I think I’m gonna go ask Mira like, how I get started on something like this.”

“Hell of a project to start now.”

“Don’t even worry about it. It’ll be fun. Got a space in mind, or just here?”

Jolene hums, considering. “Bottles suggested I actually use surface sunlight, so something on one of the upper levels? Maybe that empty one near Gia’s workshop.”

“You got it.”

“You know,” Jolene says, with a little laugh. “You really don’t have to build me an entire new lab. I feel like that got lost somewhere in all this.”

Jasper makes a face. “I need a new _thing_ , though. Can’t commute all the way down to the collider whenever I want to, can I? Trust me, I’m building this because it sounds fun. And also because I love you, you loser, and I think you deserve it.”

Jolene snorts. “Love you too.”

“ _And_ I wanna see what effect real sunlight would have on your project too, so—”

“ _Yeah,”_ she agrees. “This time it’ll happen. I think I cracked it.”

“Hell yeah, babe.”

They lapse into silence, sprawled out on the couch, and Jolene runs a finger over the tattoo lines on his arm. Jasper catalogues it all—the feel of the sofa, the smell of lavender wafting off the shelf next to them, Jolene in his arms—all of it. It’ll be good to come back to during the season, when he’s in the dugout every morning waiting for his turn to bat. He’s already looking forward to their first siesta.

Suddenly, Jolene makes a startled sound. “We promised Bees and Kelvin we’d meet them—”

“Oh, _shit_ —”

**Author's Note:**

> do yourself a favor and look up "EL wire dress" i'm literally obsessed with the entire idea
> 
> thanks for reading! i'm on tumblr as @goodwinmorin, or feel free to leave a comment if you liked this! <3


End file.
